South American voyage tests travellers

It's a real adventure into staggering geography and unusual wildlife

It's the deadliest tip of the world and, as we approach Cape Horn, it bares its fangs.

Howling, savage 40-knot winds, gusting to 50 knots out of the west- northwest kick the sea into a boiling pot of 13-metre waves that pound themselves against our ship.

And while equal to the task, Celebrity Cruise Lines' Infinity and all her 593 feet and 90,000 tonnes shudders, dips and spirals as the mighty southern sea sends out a not-so-gentle message of just who is in command down here.

The ship's master, Captain Dimitrios Kefetzis, calmly breaks in to give the latest navigational report and ends with his usual cheerful "this is the captain . . . out!"

Two hours later, he is on the blower again saying conditions have forced a course change to get into the Magellan Straits. An hour later at dinner we all get a personal message. A rogue wave smashes into us, sending food like missiles through the air -- food all over the place and some passengers literally under the table.

The crew act immediately and it is a case of cuts and bruises, rather than broken bones, smashed glasses and spilled wine -- sob.

Welcome to the most exciting and challenging cruising in the world.

One cannot feel but humbled by the likes of Ferdinand Magellan and Sir Francis Drake who exhibited amazing seamanship as their tiny ships clawed their way through this oft-inhospitable but enchantingly beautiful region.

Our "grand adventure" began at Valparaiso, Chile. The bustling harbour with its mix of cargo and cruise ships, the spic-and-span Chilean navy and scores of little passenger tenders crowding into a small landing area in front of the old market square reminds one of the old bustling ports of Singapore and Hong Kong.

Under clear, warm skies we set course for Tierra del Fuego.

As cruising goes, this is definitely not coconut palms, steel bands and those "foo-foo" cocktails with the miniature umbrellas. It is a real voyage to an intriguing portion of the planet full of staggering geography and strange flora and fauna.

Having grown up in the southern seas, "going around the Horn" had long been a personal desire. But advancing age ruled out the thirst to jump on a sailing vessel to do it the real way.

Thank God for the likes of Celebrity, and as the seas start pounding, I am secretly pleased I have opted for a, shall we say, "comfortable passage."

The first couple of days are bucolic indeed. Calm seas, burning sun, good food and company. Our first port of call is Puerto Montt, 600 km south of Valparaiso and gateway to the "lake district" of Chile and the famed Patagonia region.

It was founded in 1853 by German colonists and much of their influence remains to this day, from its Bavarian church architecture to its restaurants and food. At Frutillar, 44 km away, one gets the first glimpse of the absolute splendour of Chile's geography: Majestic Lago (Lake) Llanquihue is watched over by the snow-covered peaks of volcanoes Orsono and Calbuco.

We stop for a beer at a German-style restaurant and enjoy a local dessert delicacy, "Kuchen."

Early next morning, we find ourselves deep into the stark but stunning fiord country as our trusty captain gently steers his behemoth amazingly close to the edge of the mighty Skua Glacier. The weather gods are with us and the bleak, early-morning sunshine is just strong enough to highlight the incredible blue ice of the glacier.

As we gently glide out to sea, reality hits and we see why four seasons can be experienced in a minute down here. A savage blast comes from nowhere and the Pacific churns up.

I duck inside only to narrowly avoid being beaned by a flying bottle of gin that was soon accompanied by many other flying bottles as I pass by the liquor store.

The pounding keeps up for hours until the captain changes course and takes us into the Straits of Magellan.

The next morning we are embraced by a totally different geography: wild and magnificent with angry skies that become wondrous sky art when the bleak sun pokes through.

Punta Arenas and its 110,000 souls is Chile's and the world's most southern most city. We drop anchor and tender ashore in a biting wind. You have to remind yourself it is the middle of the southern summer.

The oldest city in Patagonia, it was once one of the most prosperous places in South America. A fact not missed by the Braun and Menendez families who built a huge commercial empire and literally controlled business across Patagonia.

Standing strategically at one of the world's most important trading routes, the absolute splendour of their former homes attest to the wealth the region once produced. Their ornate architecture seems out of place at the end of the earth.

Unfortunately, the city's time in the sun came crashing down when the Panama Canal was pushed through in 1914. Tourism is the new growth industry in town.

We cross over to Argentine territory and arrive at the most southerly inhabited place in the world, Ushuaia, surrounded by staggeringly beautiful lakes and jagged peaks.

Its frontier style is slowly giving way to fancy hotels and restaurants to handle the tourist bonanza.

The Islas Malvinas or Falkland Islands greet us with bone-chilling winds. We lurch into Fort Stanley and history. These barren windswept islands were the subject of a vicious, deadly short war between the U.K. and Argentina in 1982.

An Argentine friend says, "It was a war that should never have happened, but at least it did bring democracy to Argentine and reduced the power of its generals."

Apart from wildly overpriced souvenirs, the main attractions, apart from penguins, war memorials, quaint coloured houses and churches, are expensive fish and chips and warm beer at the local pubs.

Puerto Madryn on the southern coast of Argentina is yet another British Isles-far-away oddity. It was founded by Welsh settlers but, apart from a monument, there is little other evidence of their presence except for Welsh cakes and rugby grounds. It is the sea elephants, seals and an amazing array of birdlife that attracts visitors now.

Warmth works it way back into the bones as we steam north to the mighty River Plate and Montevideo.

It is a wonderful mix of crumbling 1930s-style buildings and one is instantly reminded we are in the land of meat. At the harbour is the wonderful Mercado del Puerto. It is filled with fantastic restaurants and their scores of wood-burning barbecues cooking cordero (lamb), steaks, chorizo sausage and pork.

Add lashings of beer or inexpensive, wonderfully tasting wines and you tend not to rush to see the rest of the place. Through all the haze one expects to see Humphrey Bogart stroll by.

We set off across the river to journey's end in the "Paris of the South," Buenos Aires.

The haunting strains of the tango signal another "great adventure" . . . but that is for another day.